


Knowing Each Other

by kikibug13



Category: Hair - MacDermot/Rado/Ragni
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Hand Jobs, Hippies, M/M, friendship sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikibug13/pseuds/kikibug13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claude's next offered pills contain an aphrodisiac... Berger helps out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing Each Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SarahJeanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJeanne/gifts).



> This heathen here is only acquainted with the movie version, but I hope there aren't differences enough for this to be too unclear. In the musical version... let's go with shortly after Claude joins in with the commune?
> 
> And many thanks to my beta!

Claude wandered the grounds, his eyes a little glazed, his mind wandering, showing him impossible things, except that they seemed not out of place at all. Colors went brighter, music was taking a life of its own, like a translucent dragon winding his way among the people. Everybody smiling, or dancing, or focused. No anger. No hurt. 

There were other pills handed out, and he reached his hand out with a stupid smile. The woman who dropped the couple of them in his hand smiled beatifically back, and rose to her tip-toes to kiss him deep enough that his head spun before she let go. He was still looking after her happily when he gulped the pills. 

"Not those!" Berger's voice made him turn and blink lazily at his new friend as he swallowed. "Shit."

"What? Wouldn't hand out something really bad, right?"

"Well, nobody'd stop them, but probably not. But one of the pair you took? Aphrodisiac. Well, uppers with high aphro content, but as good as."

"What..."

"Yeah."

Claude processed that, eventually. Well. "Shit. What do I do?"

"Come on. Look around, it's not like there isn't anybody willing." 

"... I shouldn't... with anyone. What if they get..." He imitated a baby bump in front of him, and his mouth went dry, because that suddenly seemed hot. Damn. He loved a pregnant woman as well as any sane man, but finding them arousing? Not right. 

"Well, there are the guys."

Claude could feel his eyes go very wide. _That_ , he didn't expect. "What?"

"... you haven't. Oh, what of it. C'mon, I'll help you out."

"Uh..."

"Come on. Doesn't mean a thing."

He slung an arm around Claude's shoulders, holding him near, and he followed, though moving was getting increasingly difficult, with the way his pants had gone a couple of sizes too small. Damn. "Fast-acting aphrodisiacs." 

"Well, when you mix them with the other stuff? Oh, yeah. Here."

For a gathering such as this, Berger managed to find them a relatively private spot quickly enough. Kind of like an alcove sheltered by trees and bushes. He let Claude sit, then flopped gracefully beside him, his hair catching the setting with unexpected hues. Claude stared, slack-mouthed, and Berger snorted. "Focus, here, okay? Now mooning over me."

"It's just so..." and it occurred to Claude that he could touch, too, and he did. Running one finger over the sun-painted locks. "Pretty."

Berger shook his head, grinning. "Hair. Also, how's this."

And his knuckle ran over the straining seam of his pants, and Claude gasped and twitched closer to the touch, ohyes. "Yeah. You sure you... I could. By myself?"

"I'm the one who can tell it's actually letting up. So. Sure, I'm sure."

Which was all Claude needed, on top of what Berger was doing, to relax. His head rolled back, and his breathing hitched, and again, before quickening into short pants. The hand on his crotch was working him through the pants, and he was hard enough already for it to be almost hurting. 

Berger seemed to notice that, because he undid the zipper, letting him out. Claude outright moaned as the hand, small calluses on it, wrapped around his dick, his mouth going absolutely dry.

"Should I... you want me to recip-- recpi-- do the same to you?"

"Nah, don't usually get off on this, don't worry."

Getting off on it or not, Berger's hand was steady and warm and perfect, pumping him, and Claude was moaning in about a minute, hard enough to feel like he'd burst, and yet not _bursting_ , yet. "Yeah... oh, man, like that, please." His voice was nearly gone, broken and gasping, but the reasonable part of his mind had fled even earlier, anyway. The friction was good, and the tempo was steady, not in a way that would make the mind wander, the upstroke with a little twist that got to him every time, the downstroke making him lifts his hips off the ground to push into it. "Yeaaah..."

Berger shifted, and Claude's eyes snapped open to check if somebody was watching them, but they were still relatively clear. What he did see was Berger undoing his own belt, working on himself with his other hand, the tempo much different and his eyes trained on Claude's face. He seemed to murmur to himself 'shit' as he tried to cover something. 

Too late.

"Thought you said you didn't..."

"Get off on jacking somebody? On pumping you clean until the drug's out of your system? I don't. But man, when you look like that, enjoying yourself so much. _That_ is hot."

"Oh, god. Ohhh, _oh!_ "

And he was coming, making them both stickier than it should (but then, it wasn't like he'd done much of this. Even on his own.) It was good. 

Berger chuckled as he flopped bonelessly on the ground and stretched beside him. "See? Not the first time." 

"Ugh... need a bit of help, there?"

Claude thought about it for a moment, then smirked. "Sure. Why not."

Later, much later, the push of the drug was low-key enough that it wasn't getting him hard right away, they both flopped back, relieved. 

"You all right?" 

Claude blinked over. "Yeah? Why."

"You just had lots of orgasms caused by a guy. How's it feel?" 

"You said it didn't mean anything."

"Nothing that you didn't like before this, no. Anyway. _Are_ you all right?"

That question required entirely too much focus, but then Claude slowly nodded. "Sure. Yeah. Head's a little fuzzy. Oh, look, a flying chick? That's not right, I'll probably get it laid on me for calling wokrkin' girls that, but you know what I mean. Maybe we should go explore?"

Berger snorted again, quietly. "Give me half an hour, I'll be good as new."

"... you couldn'.... _sleep_ here, can you?"

"What. Why not?" 

_Because they'll see me._ "Just thinkin..."

"Yeah, you get used to it."

"Sure about that?" 

"Mostly." This close, Berger's laugh is a pleasant rumble, one that makes Claude's body try to respond despite himself. "Still... if you need to.... I dunno. Find you condoms or anything, tell me. And try to pay attention to what they're giving you. Don't hurt to ask."

"Will do, boss."

"That how you do it back home?" 

"...mostly everyone does his own thing... usually not with--"

"I meant the will-do-boss part."

"Can I answer that when I'm less high? Think this might be an important conversation."

And for a quarter hour more, Berger's laughter remained the best thing he could hear. Then there were shinier things that got them both up and moving. Zipper done up and everything in order, too. One more thing he wasn't writing home about.


End file.
